The door shut. The lock clicked into place.
He walked toward the street when he heard his name called. Looking back at the house, he found the door still shut.
"Up here."
He raised his gaze to the window. Unable to see anyone in the darkness without the room lit up, he knew it was Lizzy going by her voice.
"Problem?" he asked.
"Can you meet me at the door again?"
He walked the rest of the way up to the house. A minute later, she stepped outside still dressed in her uniform, and he found himself wishing she'd gotten undressed for bed. Did she wear lingerie? A T-shirt? Nothing?
She gazed up into his face and frowned. "Coco said you headbutted someone at the bar."
"He and his friends needed to leave."
Her frown stayed in place. "The pool table was part of my station tonight. Was it a situation I should've diffused?"
"No." He held her gaze. "You did nothing wrong."
She continued to study him. He let her get her fill. What went down tonight would remain with him. He had his reasons, and he wasn't sure he even knew what they were, only that he wanted to stop other men from enjoying her.
"I don't understand you," whispered Lizzy. "Nothing good comes from fighting."
His life was filled with violence, and yet he stood outside in the middle of the night wanting to believe her. He wanted to make sure nothing ever touched her to make her change her mind.
He swallowed. No, he wanted to make sure that he was the only one allowed to touch her.
"Good night, Roar."
"Night, Lizzy girl," he murmured.
She stepped backward and went inside the house.
He walked away, knowing every night he took her home it was getting harder for him to leave her at the door. It didn't matter that Coco was always with them. It didn't matter that she remained innocent in the direction of his thoughts surrounding her. It didn't matter that having her would only add complications in his life.
His wanting her was like a firing burning deep inside of him. And, as the president of Slag, he always kept the fire burning.